


The Young Healer's Journey

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [61]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Backstory, F/M, Fourth Age, Friendship, Gen, Immortality, Romance, Second Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 19:56:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: Nallos didn't invite teenaged elfling Theli to go with him to Amon Lanc in the late Second Age. It was more like, elfling Theli shanghaied Nallos as a tour guide. Meanwhile, in the Fourth Age, Legolas ponders the impact of his friend having chosen to marry a mortal woman.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N 1: The main part of this story is set in the Greenwood during the late Second Age. The prologue is set in Ithilien during the Fourth Age. 
> 
> A/N 2: I will return to posting new chapters of “Dribbling Mad” next week. This story is intended to provide more of Theli’s backstory, and a little information about his future wife. 
> 
> A/N 3: There is a character in this story named Tauriel, however she is not the same Tauriel from the Hobbit movies. I had come up with my Tauriel to use as an Imladris original character years before the movies came out. For more detail on my Tauriel, see the End Note at the end of this prologue chapter.

Setting: Ithilien, 4th Age approximately Year 26 

In a forest clearing a day’s ride for Emyn Arnen, a cheerful fire burned. Around it sat a double handful of elves and Men, denizens of Emyn Arnen and Ithilien-en-Edhil. 

Two of them, a strawberry-blond elleth and a young redhead with dancing gray-green eyes, sat huddled together, speaking quietly. Occasionally they giggled and cast their eyes in the direction of an ellon sitting on the other side of the fire, in between Prince Faramir and Prince Legolas.   
The elleth was Mistress Tauriel Maedaladiel, the cheerful and free-spirted Chief Groom of Imladris’ stables. The redhead was properly addressed as ‘her highness, the Lady Mithiriel Faramiriel of Ithilien and the House of Telcontar.’   
The ellon on the other side of the fire who had attracted their attention was, in truth, only a part-elf. Addressed formally, he was called Lord Ecthelion Diorchil, a cousin to King Thranduil and Prince Legolas of the Wood of Green Leaves. He was also a royal healer and a former officer of his King’s army. Addressed informally by his short-name, as he preferred, he was called Theli, or healer Theli. 

"They're talking about me again," Theli remarked in a bemused tone to his companions. 

"Hmm," remarked Prince Faramir neutrally, which was only slightly more helpful to Theli than Prince Legolas' laughing eyes. 

Taking pity on King Thranduil's healer and his own future son-by-law, Faramir offered, "You had best accustom yourself to it, cousin Theli. They will be talking about you for . . . the foreseeable future."   
Only someone who knew Legolas Thranduilon very well would have noticed his wince, when Faramir only just managed not to say ‘for the rest of your life.’   
The rest of Theli’s life would be much shorter than anyone had ever expected, because Faramir’s daughter Mithiriel was mortal, and Theli had chosen to wed her and share her life span. 

Gimli, son of Gloin, Lord of the Glittering Caves of Aglarond, did know Legolas that well. His kind eyes took in his friend's sorrow, but Gimli knew that drawing attention to Legolas' melancholy would not be welcomed by his friend, or helpful to Faramir or Theli.   
The lifespans and fates of men and elves were different; it was simply how it was. Very few elves could make Luthien's choice, and even those who did paid a price. This group was intimately aware of that, so instead of calling attention to Legolas' sorrow and the reason for it, Gimli simply blew pipe smoke into Legolas' face to annoy him (which was a form of affection, at least this long into their close yet still competitive friendship). 

Then, while Legolas coughed and blamed his stinging eyes on 'Gimli's noxious air,' Gimli called the attention of the group back to the previous subject of conversation. 

"So, Theli my friend, you left your small village in the north of Greenwood in the company of Tauriel's great-grandfather. And that is how you came to decide that you wanted to move to the capital of the Greenwood to study with the Healer's Guild there?" 

"More or less," Theli agreed. His dark blue eyes were nearly the color of the velvet midnight-blue sky above them, and his ever-present smile and the mischievous glimmer in his eyes shone like the stars. 

"That's not the way that my Grandda always told the story," the strawberry-blond elleth who was Imladris’ Chief Groom interrupted with a teasing laugh, "In fact, Grandda Nallos said that you weren't even INVITED on that trip." 

"Invited, no, Tauriel mellon-nin," Theli agreed with a grin, "But I'm sure that, had he realized what good company I'd be, he would have invited me himself. So, really, I was just saving him trouble and anticipating his needs."   
Putting on a self-serving demeanor and adopting an unctuous tone utterly foreign to his nature, Theli jested, "Anticipating the needs of our royal masters is what serving in the royal household is all about." 

Aragorn shook his head at Theli from across the campfire, and Legolas collapsed in laughter. 

"So," Legolas began merrily, "When you jumped off of a cliff because you thought the orcs and wargs would, too, that was...." 

"Anticipating your father-our-King's need to have fewer such creatures in his demesne," Theli said with a noble, self-sacrificing wink. 

"Do take a mental note," Faramir remarked, clearly torn between amusement and his self-assigned role as family mediator, "That Aragorn doesn't always appreciate the little things that we do, in anticipation of his needs. 

"Particularly not when one is his kin," Legolas added more soberly. 

"And most particularly not his young lasses, his girls and yours," Gimli added, nodding towards Mithiriel, who sat by Tauriel, and Theodwyn and Gilwen, who were deep in conversation with several of Faramir's rangers. 

"I know," Theli agreed, a rare serious expression on his face. 

Elladan reached out a hand and squeezed Theli's shoulder, "Theli is always serious and responsible. Well, when it counts." 

"But we heard the full story of your first trip to Amon Lanc from Drystan, who had it from Nallos during the war," Elrohir added with a Cheshire grin, "and it was not so much that Nallos forgot to invite you, as that you shanghaied his trip for your own purposes. And then proceeded to blackmail him with your very presence!"


	2. The Journey to Amon Lanc

Setting: Greenwood, Late Second Age 

Nallos Canyavasion stretched, glad to have finally ceased his journeying for the day. He relaxed in a hammock slung between the branches of a great beech tree, and let the wind rustling through the leaves sing him to sleep.

In the morning, he awoke to the appetizing smell of fish frying. From the scent, the meal was well spiced with local herbs and plants. Which would have been lovely, save that Nallos was journeying alone through the vast forests of Greenwood. He didn't know if a stranger in the woods would be friend or foe. 

Nallos had some weeks ago left his fellow villagers, including his wife and daughter, at their once-a-yen gathering in the far north of the Greenwood. By now, he was within a week of Amon Lanc. It was part of the agreement Nallos had reached with Eldun, about how Nallos might keep in touch with his Noldorin kin without violating the Nandorin rules of secrecy. During this short time when Nallos did not know the location of the new village, he would journey to Amon Lanc, and receive from a friend there any messages he'd received in the last century from his brother Carmave, Master of the kitchens of Imladris. Nallos would also post all of his letters and sketches of his family to his brother, so that Carmave could respond to them. It was sad, only being in touch once a century. But Nallos loved his wife, and Serenwen's family were all in the village. And once a century was better than no contact at all. 

Nallos moved quietly out of his hammock, yeni with the Nandor allowing him to move like a marten though the trees. Decades spent fighting in the War of Wrath beside his sworn-brother, the elven King Ereinion Gil-galad, had finely honed his instincts for trouble. However, Nallos sensed no danger, which was odd. The fire was burning cheerfully, well and safely built. The fish were cooking on sticks, stuffed with mushrooms and wild onions.

"Put that bow down, Nallos," A young voice said, amused and a bit concerned, from behind and to the left of Nallos. "Grandda Eldun won't be happy, but I doubt he'd want you to shoot an arrow through me."

Nallos did put the bow down. Then he swore, fulsomely and at great length. He started in Nandorin, but it wasn't his first language, so he quickly moved to Sindarin and Quenya and even Quendya, finishing in the language which had been spoken during the war of wrath by the men of the three houses of the Edain.

Village Elder Eldun's only grandson Ecthelion, called Theli, favored Nallos with an impressed grin, "Wow. Any chance you'll teach me what some of those words mean?"

Nallos took one deep breath, and then another. He reminded himself forcefully that he had never actually killed his blood-brother Ereinion's bratling twin foster-brothers Elros and Elrond, despite their many attempts to infuriate Nallos, Ereinion and their other friends past the point of fratricide. He had never killed any elfling, and it would be a pity to start with a friend's great-nephew whom Nallos was personally quite fond of. Even if the great-nephew in question was leagues away from where he was supposed to be, and even though his presence here with Nallos would make Elder Eldun furious with Nallos, upon Nallos' return.

"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," Theli, comforted kindly, "I left a note in Gran Eirian's pack. She'll see it when she gets to the meeting place, and they unpack there. And you know Grandda Eldun won't have let them wait up for me. He doesn't change the rules, even for family."

Nallos counted to ten. Theli offered him one of the fish and a flask of what smelled like last year's honey mead. Nallos decided he might as well eat, and did so. After all, he needed to calm down before speaking any further with Theli. And Theli, who loved food and was almost never too nervous to eat, followed suit. Then Theli began breaking the camp, shifting some of Nallos's food stuffs into Theli's smaller pack, and shimmying up the tree as neatly as a squirrel to retrieve Nallos' hammock. 

Theli untied the hammock as quickly as Nallos might have, but instead of folding it into a tunic pocket and climbing down the tree like a sensible elf, Theli grinned broadly and jumped into the air, using the hammock the way a flying squirrel might utilize its skin flaps, to glide from the tree top smoothly down to the ground. 

Where Nallos promptly grabbed him by the shoulders. The older elf then had to resist the urge to shake him, as he didn't want to actually hurt Theli. After all, Theli was like a nephew to Nallos, and Nallos’ daughter Silaen’s dear friend, besides, despite the difference in their ages. Theli was also the only Nandorin elfling in yeni who had actually come to Nallos to ask for lessons in reading and writing Sindarin. Which Nallos had been happy to teach Theli, until Eldun forbade it. As Eldun had absolutely forbade Theli's accompanying Nallos on this trip.

"Ecthelion Eurigion, what were you thinking?" Nallos demanded, voice more incredulous then angry. With his temper under control, he shook Theli gently but firmly by the shoulders. 

"Um . . . about going with you to Amon Lanc, or about floating down from the tree?" Theli asked tentatively, with a smile that was somehow timid, rueful, and cheerfully amused, all at the same time.

"I don't even know," Nallos said, the humor of the situation beginning to get to him too, "But start with the tree, I suppose. That was dangerous, elfling."

"Not really," Theli disagreed, "Your hammock is well woven, Nallos. Water-tight, in fact. I saw Gran Eirian make it, and in general anything she weaves works well for gliding. I wouldn't have dared, if you'd made your own hammock. You're not nearly good enough with weaving and sewing."

Looking to the treetops, through to the pale sunlight of early morning, Nallos again counted to ten. In Quendya, which Nallos had not heard spoken since the War of Wrath. When he felt calmer again, he said, "Putting aside how you would even know what fabrics work well for gliding - no, really, Theli, don't tell me, I don't want to know - I would appreciate it if you never do that again. Ever." 

Nallos also made a mental note to ask his daughter if she had ever played this dangerously stupid game with Theli. He was rather afraid that the answer was yes, but he'd wait to hear Silaen confirm it, before getting any more furious with Theli. Who was, anyway, hundreds of years younger than Silaen. Which was a bit of a worry to Nallos, these days. The two younger elves were spending a lot of time together, and while Theli would make an acceptable grandson-in-law given time, he was still an elfling in truth, not even of age. Even though at forty-four the part-human Theli looked like a fully grown elf of 100 years of age, and often passed as one amongst elves who did not know him well, he was still entirely too young for courting. Let alone for a betrothal to an elleth centuries older than himself. 

Theli knew Nallos well enough to know that even though that last statement had been worded as a polite request, it was in fact a command. So Theli mentally decided that Nallos must just mean don't glide down from beech trees: (1) while the sun isn't really up yet and (2) while Nallos is watching, again, shrugged to himself, and agreed aloud, "Well enough, Nallos. No more gliding." Of that type, Theli silently amended to himself.

Nallos rubbed his head, and Theli went to his pack and pulled out a flask, handing it to Nallos with a flourish. "Here. This should fix your headache."

As Theli was a promising student healer, according to Elder Eldun, who did not praise anyone lightly, and especially not his own family, Nallos accepted the flask and downed the minty flavored liquid within. The pain in his head started to recede almost immediately, though that still left him with the problem of Theli's presence.

"It's too late to turn back," Theli pointed out helpfully, "You're just going to have to take me with you to Amon Lanc. Or not, I could probably find my own way, from here. If I just keep following the paths as they get more heavily traveled, I should get there eventually."

"Theli," Nallos began, exasperated and worried more than angry by this point, "You could have been killed, traveling alone all the way from the village, to here. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't alone," Theli protested, "I was following you."

"Following me," Nallos repeated, to make sure he'd heard that right.

"Yes. I'm a student tracker, too, you know. I think Cousin Elissed will be really happy that I followed you all of this way, without you getting suspicious enough to backtrack and find me." 

Theli was obviously quite pleased with himself.

Nallos weighed the relative merits of shaking Theli, before reluctantly deciding against it, in part because it would likely make little impact on Theli, and would therefore be a foolish waste of time. They needed to keep up a good pace to get to Amon Lanc and back to the meeting place before the villages had all left their once-a-yen gathering to make their new homes. 

After that point they'd have to wait 144 years to find their people, if it was even possible at all. And Nallos was not spending a yen elfling-minding Theli. That would be almost as bad as having been sentenced to watching Elrond and Elros at a comparable age. But not quite as bad, only because there was just one Theli. 

Which made Nallos wonder . . . was Theli really devious enough to have jumped out of that tree just to distract Nallos from being angry over Theli having followed him? It was an intriguing thought, but it didn't change the choices now in front of Nallos.

"Come on, then, Theli," Nallos said reluctantly. 

Theli smiled brightly, a happy adolescent elfling now that he had gotten his way. Then he picked up the heavier of the two packs, before setting off in exactly the direction Nallos would have picked to continue his journey. There was obviously a spring in Theli's step and a song in his heart, although he wisely refrained from singing aloud. 

Nallos sighed and followed. At least Theli would be good company. The elfling was pleasant of temperament, capable, and always willing to help.   
And, in truth, this – Theli having followed him - shouldn't even be a complete shock to Nallos. After all, Elissed had warned Nallos, that Eurig's son, Elilssed's little cousin, the chief elder’s only grandson and heir apparent, might follow Nallos. Theli was curious about everything outside the village, and desperately wanted to see a real city. 

But Nallos had told his wife Serenwen of Elissed's warning, and Serenwen had told her good friend Elder Eldun. And Eldun had lectured his nephew, lectured his son, and called his grandson Theli over to make sure that Theli was not planning on running off. Then Eldun had assured Nallos that he would have nothing to worry about, Theli-wise.

Yet, here Theli was. 

"You lied to your grandfather, squirrel?" Nallos asked reproachfully.

"Nay!" Theli protested evenly, "Grandda Eldun asked if I was planning to run off, and I wasn't, so I said I wasn't. I was planning to follow you, but that wasn't running off. And he didn't ask if I was planning to follow you."

Nallos silently cursed how complacent Eldun could be at times, how sure the powerful elder was that he didn't need to listen to answers, as he could just fish for them in an elf's mind. Not Theli's mind, apparently. Which begged the question..."You met his eyes and told him that, and Eldun didn't tie you to him?"

Theli shrugged cheerfully, seeming nothing but happy to be in this new part of the woods, and excited to be having an adventure.

"Yes. Arguing with Grandda Eldun is pointless, he always wants to win. He might view this as running off, but I didn't. So he asked if I was planning to run off, and I said no, and I just pictured the forest in my head as I did so. And he decided that I was daydreaming, and told me to go and finish my tracking lessons with Cousin Elissed. Since that's what I was planning to do anyway, in a manner of speaking," Theli shrugged again, "why argue?"

As much as Nallos enjoyed Eldun having finally met his match in this sturdy, blue-eyed elfling, it was an inopportune time, to say the least. But there was nothing for it. Nallos was going to have to take Theli with him, into the settlement around Amon Lanc. Into the capital of the Great Greenwood itself. 

‘Eru and the Valar all help me,’ thought Nallos to himself, ‘it's going to be like herding an exceptionally curious, willful, and clever bobcat.’ 

"Hey, Nallos," Theli queried brightly, right on schedule, "How many elves are there in Amon Lanc? Can I meet them all? Are there healers? Can I meet the healers, at least? I want to ask what they would do with a complex fracture that's been set wrong and started knitting, what's the best way to re-break and cast the bones. Oh! And I want to ask if they've ever seen humans, and if human diseases are the same as the ones that elflings get, because there are a bunch of new elflings from the Hawthorn and Clear Springs villages, and I want to know how to treat them. I think Grandda's remedies for illnesses are sadly out of date. And I want to meet a human. Do you think that there are any humans in Amon Lanc? And Serenwen says there are all sorts of strange animals, do you think they have..." 

As Theli continued chattering, Nallos hoped that he wouldn't lose Eldun's only grandson. Because if anyone deserved this elfling, it was Eldun. Or maybe Elrond and Elros, but last Nallos had heard, Elros had died on Numenor, and Elrond was busy enough running an outpost in Eriador, that elfling minding on top of that would be unfair. Let alone an elfling who often reminded Nallos strongly of a more light-hearted version of Elros, but with Elrond's quiet determination, and Elrond's incredible dedication to learning the healing arts.


	3. Epilogue

Setting: Fourth Age, Ithilien 

The fire still burned cheerily against the midnight blue of the moonlit sky above. The bright flames revealed the shapes of the clean smelling trees of Ithilien looming protectively around the edge of the clearing. The evergreen trees were mixed in with deciduous growth, which sported the tender buds of new leaves. Ithilien boasted a vast variety of different trees, flowers, and other plants. As well as a great variety of thinking beings. 

Most of the Men and elves of the two princes’ joint patrol were asleep in their bedrolls. Legolas, Faramir, and Gimli, however, were still awake. They had just returned from a walk under the moon and the stars, to see how the trees by the river were healing. Very well, as it happened. 

As Legolas and his friends rejoined the mostly slumbering figures around the campfire, his gaze was captured by two figures sitting on the other side of the leaping flames. 

The cool pale silver light from the moon and the stars above, and the warm reddish orange glow from the fire before them, together limned the slight young red-haired woman and her elven beloved in illumination which was at once immortal and incandescent. The two beings spoke softly and sweetly together. As Legolas watched, Mithiriel and Theli each lifted both of their hands, then laid their palms against one another’s. They entwined their fingers, still laughing and smiling with quiet yet irrepressible joy. 

“Legolas . . .” Gimli began gruffly, “you still have time with them.” 

“I know.” 

Just much less, Legolas thought to himself. Much, much less. Theli making the choice to marry Mithiriel meant that he would share her mortal life. 

Legolas didn’t blame Mithiriel. Not really. Or Theli. 

Faramir sat down quietly, but his silence was a patient, waiting one.   
Gimli, picking up on that, followed suit. 

“The two of you are impossible,” Legolas complained, but he took a seat on his own bedroll between the two of them even so. 

“It’s your own fault for being so easy to outwait,” Gimli teased. 

“You’re not supposed to be that blunt about it,” Legolas complained, although he couldn’t help smiling a bit as he did so. 

Aragorn’s son just gave them both an amused look. Faramir could do ‘patiently waiting silence’ like no one else Legolas knew - elven or human, dwarven or hobbit, living or otherwise. 

Legolas took a deep breath, then began, “Lady Difficult has always been a little too . . . wise?” 

“She was born wise,” Faramir agreed in his kind but thoughtful fashion, “Which doesn’t mean that all of her impulses are wise. Or that she always acts wisely. But I think that she has chosen well, in cousin Theli.” 

“And Theli is very happy, with Mithiriel,” Legolas continued, “But he is also an important part of my family, and he’s always been there for me.” 

Theli had been a constant presence, always optimistic and persistent, even at the worst times in Legolas’ life. Legolas had rejoiced when he learned that Theli was his kin twice over, through Theli’s great-grandmother Nimloth and great -grandfather Dior. Even after it was pointed out to Legolas that being of that lineage meant that Theli could make the choice to bind his life to that of a human, as Arwen had, and thereby forsake his immortal life. 

“I don’t want to lose him,” Legolas said softly, needing to speak that fear but hating to do so because he felt that the mere fact of speaking the words would make them come true. 

Legolas didn’t want to lose any of them. But, except for Gimli, whose life had been unnaturally extended with Lady Galadriel’s aid, he’d lose all of his mortal friends all too soon. He’d accepted that. But to lose an immortal friend to Luthien’s choice . . . he had not expected that. 

“Mithiriel is Faramir’s daughter, and Aragorn’s granddaughter. She has over a century of life left to her,” Gimli pointed out comfortingly. 

That time period was not so long to an elf. Not even to Legolas. But he tried to let the thought cheer him. 

“Don’t . . . foreclose any possibilities yet,” Faramir said pensively, the words given power and substance by his musical tenor voice. And by Legolas’ knowledge that Faramir was rarely ever wrong, when he ventured to speak. Even when the meaning of his words was as-of-yet unclear, even to himself. 

“What do you mean?” Legolas asked, afraid to hope. 

“My fate, and that of my children, has always been . . . unpredictable. My mother’s doing, I think,” Faramir answered, “There may be more than one path open to my daughter and my soon-to-be son by marriage. If not at once, then at some point in the future.” 

“I always rather thought that Theli would sail with me,” Legolas confessed. He rather thought that his father had planned on it, in fact. If Theli’s and Mithiriel’s future was truly as unsettled as Faramir believed it to be . . . well, that was something, at least. 

“The future will unfold as it will. Enjoy the present,” Gimli urged. 

“Right,” Legolas said, with more conviction than he actually felt in his heart. Maybe, if he just acted as if he had accepted the situation and was nothing but happy about his friend-and-cousin’s upcoming wedding, he would truly feel only the happiness soon enough. Or at least be able to conceal his fears and his grief at the thought of impending loss. 

“You may have to stand in for your father as Greenwood’s representative to Mithiriel’s and Theli’s wedding,” Gimli cautioned. 

“Father will come,” Legolas said with quiet surety, before going on to explain, “Although he is disappointed,” and hurt by the thought of soon losing forever a friend he had become increasingly close to over the past two decades, “he will still come. And he will stand with Theli on the day of his marriage, since Theli has asked.” 

Gimli frowned dubiously. 

“He will come,” agreed a new voice, as Aragorn gracefully lifted himself from his bedroll beside Faramir to take a seat between his older son and Legolas. 

“I am sure of it,” Aragorn continued. 

While Legolas wondered how long Aragorn had been awake, and how much he had heard, Aragorn and Faramir exchanged a speaking look. It made Legolas miss his own father. 

Gimli seemed to concede the point, but Legolas sensed that his dwarven blood-brother still cherished doubts. That was probably unavoidable. Gimli and Legolas’ father Thranduil were often apt to assume the worst of one another. 

To change the topic, and because he was curious as to the answer, Legolas asked Aragorn and Faramir, “Where are Mithiriel and Theli bound, after their wedding? Have they decided yet?” 

The last Legolas had heard, the two were still trying to reconcile their different respective individual obligations, Mithiriel’s to the Reunited Kingdoms and Theli’s to the Greenwood. 

“The Greenwood, eventually, where I am told that they plan to be in residence for a substantial amount of time,” Faramir explained. 

Legolas shook his head in chagrinned amusement. He thought that their plan to bide in the Greenwood was likely an attempt to prove that Mithiriel had no designs on taking Theli away from his people and his Kingdom entirely. Legolas most sincerely and whole-heartedly wished the two of them luck with that campaign. Legolas hoped that his father would cooperate. Sadly, there was little chance of that, at least in the short term. 

“Eventually the Greenwood, then, that makes sense,” Legolas queried, “but where, first?” 

“Dol Amroth, for a time,” Faramir answered, with a fondly reminiscent smile at the mention of one of his own favorite places. 

“Oh,” said Legolas, who had never been to that sea-side princedom, despite it being held so dearly to most of his human friends’ hearts. If the crown prince of the Greenwood were to go so near the Sea, the call of the West might become too much for him to bear. Legolas was not done with his time on Middle Earth, so he stayed in Ithilien or went back to the Greenwood when his human ‘family’ made their semi-annual sojourns to the sea shore. 

“And after Dol Amroth, they will travel to Rohan,” Aragorn continued sympathetically, “Mithiriel will be leading our delegation there. Their task is to finalize the most recent set of treaties between Rohan and the other human, elven, and dwarven kingdoms.” 

“Who is representing the dwarves?” Legolas asked. 

“My cousin Balder,” Gimli supplied blandly. 

Legolas winced, “I wish them joy of him.” 

Faramir chuckled softly, “Balder actually likes Theli. And he finds Mithiriel . . . disarming.” 

“Don’t we all,” Legolas remarked with a light laugh of his own, “If Theli will be there in Rohan anyway, Ada will most likely make him Greenwood’s representative at that gathering. Which I will be just as glad of. I hold Eomer and his Rohirrim close to my heart, but I do not like to miss my summer trip to my father’s new capital of Emyn Estel in the dark mountains of Greenwood.” 

“I think that your father feels much the same way,” said Aragorn in a heartfelt manner. Legolas knew that his long-time friend the King of Men disliked being separated from his own children.

Faramir, Aragorn’s most well-traveled child, considered his father with a mixture of sympathy and mild exasperation before remarking, “It is unfortunate that Mithiriel’s fine work to convince you to let her join your mission to revise our treaty with the Rhunnim this fall will most likely end up as wasted effort.”

“It really will be effort wasted,” Legolas confirmed, “Ada is not letting Theli anywhere near the Rhunnim, Haradrim, or Khandians. Not with a price still on his head from his work for Mithrandir during the end of the last Age.” 

“Good for Thranduil,” said Aragorn, before complaining to Faramir, “In an unusual - and effective - counterattack, Mithiriel has changed tactics. She has formed an alliance with Theodwyn, Eowyn and Arwen. I am now evidently taking your oldest daughter with me to negotiate with the Chieftains of Rhun.” 

“I find myself happier with that,” Faramir confessed, “Theodwyn is better prepared to defend herself against physical threats than Mithiriel.” 

“But you would have let Mithiriel come with me anyway,” Aragorn criticized. 

“I respect my children’s choices,” Faramir lectured lightly, “and the Rhunnim need to understand that they have to show respect to women of Gondor and Arnor if they want to meet us on equal ground.” 

“Yes, Faramir my dear child, I do realize that,” Aragorn riposted, “however . . .”

Legolas fell asleep to the King of Men and his loyal Steward arguing about politics, and the rights of Aragorn’s descendants to make of themselves living arguments for a more equal future for humanity. It was not the first time that had happened.

**Author's Note:**

> My original character Tauriel is the Chief Groom (Horse Mistress) of the stables of Imladris. She is in charge of overseeing the care, acquisition, and breeding of Imladris’ horses. She also supervises the work of Imladris’ Master of the Hounds and their Master Falconer. My Tauriel was born in the Greenwood in the early Third Age, as the daughter of Maedalad the carpenter and his wife Silaen. Silaen herself was the daughter of the wood elf Serenwen, who fought in the War of Wrath, and of her husband Nallos Canyavasion, a Noldorin elf from Nargothorond who was a playmate of his elfling Prince Ereinion Gil-galad. Nallos and his family continued to serve Ereinion when he became the ward of Lord Cirdan of the Falas. Nallos continued to serve Ereinion Gil-galad when he became the King of the Noldorin elves on Middle Earth. Nallos fought by Gil-galad’s side during the War of Wrath, where he met Serenwen, his future wife. After the War of Wrath, Nallos went to live with Serenwen and her Laiquendi people in what became the Greenwood. 
> 
>  
> 
> Early in the Second Age, all of Tauriel’s family and fellow villagers were massacred by orcs ranging into the Greenwood from the plains of Rhun. Tauriel alone survived, because her grandmother Serenwen and her mother Silaen hid Tauriel in a cave near the village. The elfling Tauriel was rescued by Greenwood’s Army when they came to check on the village after hearing reports that it had been attacked. Then Tauriel was taken to her great-uncle Carmave Canyavasion, the Chief Cook of Lord Elrond’s household in Imladris. She was raised by her great-uncle in Imladris and became a groom there, eventually rising to the rank of Chief Groom. She was slightly younger than Elrohir and Elladan, a young child when they were adolescents, and slightly older than the twins’ younger sister Andreth (another of my original characters). 
> 
> Tauriel was friends with the twins, but the best of friends with Andreth, and with Eilunwen Drystaniel. The three of them were all notable beauties, and were immortalized as young ellith in the song “The Three Roses of Imladris” by Gelmir Laurelinde (Gelmir Golden Song). Gelmir eventually married Elrond’s daughter Andreth. He was also the cousin of Thalion Aerandirion, the foster-son of King Thranduil and his wife Minaethiel (an original character belonging to Emma and Kaylee, see the next end note below). 
> 
> Thranduil’s wife Queen Minaethiel belongs to Emma (AfricanDaisy) and Kaylee. She is one of a number of their well-crafted Greenwood elf OCs whom I have borrowed, with their kind permission, to use in my Greenwood based stories in my AU, which is distinct from their AU. If you like their original characters, then that is much more to their credit than mine! Feel free to let them know, and to check out their stories (please read all warnings). Emma and Kaylee's Doriath stories can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/25743 and here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/656492. More of their Greenwood stories can be read in the files section here: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/LOTR_DFIC/info


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